Thursday, July 21

CM Punk vs. John Cena

i broke my mother's heart in fourth grade when i told her i felt invisible. in the Catholic School system in my hometown you switch from grammar to middle school in 4th grade and it buried me under a sea of popular kids and adjustment.

recently, i've been producing a comedy show, and have been fortunate enough to rally troops of fantastic friends.

i was expecting one of my friends to come with her boyfriend, and after checking in with her multiple times, she was a no show. i tried contacting her after several times to no avail, and to this day haven't heard back. it's odd when a friendship ends with no explanation and without an inkling as to why. it leaves you confused, and not far from the invisible fourth grader who didn't know how to navigate cliques and drama. luckily, i still don't know how to navigate drama. i never want to learn, because i don't want this petty force in my life.

normally, in scenarios like this, the unresponsiveness would plague me. i'd overcalculate conversations past and circumstances present, dissecting the mechanics of what when wrong, who is to blame for what, and why it all happened. i'd chase until i got an answer. i'd create something to spark a response. i'd have to satisfy the lingering answer to why this happened, which is hanging in her rhelm. i'd need closure, a concept that seems to be more phantom that real, and that you rarely have the opportunity to achieve.

or, you can let go. mental energy seems better spent on acceptance of what is. in many ways, life is a series of people entering and exiting your life. sometimes these exits are graceful, nearly seamless, with the exception of the fact that it's indeed a break in friendship, communication, reliability, and closeness. people are unique, and so of course is every relationship. when someone drops out of your life, the needs that you had for that relationship must shift, to another friend or within yourself.

though this particular exit was quiet, many can be violent. in fact the silent screams can be the loudest; the deliberate, passive aggressive games that people play because they are desperate to make you a pawn, and under their control. in either case, i've preferred not to let go. i've preferred to set aside trivial frustrations, or call to attention the unspoken ones so that these obstacles clear. i've preferred to repair the damaged, regardless of how skewed or onesided. there's no problem two adults can't fix. i've flirted with line of self sacrifice vs. self sacrificing, a blurry line that never seems to run straight. perhaps this is why i tend to have a very long fuse, but why the end of it is so ugly.

but, sometimes the fact that you can fix something doesn't necessarily mean that you should. if you're so hellbent on repairing the broken that you find yourself tucking skeletons in the closet and sweeping dirty laundry under the rug for the "greater good" of your friendship, you may find the story of your relationships to be that of once upon a mattress. you find anger tucked between mattresses, sometimes even on a bed of lies. sleeping well won't come easy in these conditions.

i would not quit. i would never give up. i would be John Cena.

for those of you who have something better to do than watch the WWE from 8-10 p.m. on Mondays or PPV Sundays, John Cena has been made the face of the WWE. he is disliked by many because he's not the best in the ring, and he has been made champion so many times due to stale writing (something i blame the writers for more than him). he's fantastic on the microphone, and could probably get me psyched to file a tax return.

his edge has been softened and taken to the PG status that true WWE fans loathe. he preaches hustle, loyalty, and respect, in the name of our service men and women in the military. he used to rap battle other rappers and take a stand. he used to be tough. he used to be a rebel--but i think the owner of the WWE feared that people would grow tired of a rebel. now he makes no attacks, but just vows that he will win. the personal attacks are done with in a comedic style, and the shit talking has gone soft. he tends to rise above the mindless, unjust, and unprovoked attacks others make on him, being the better man. he never comes across as a pushover, but he does come across as mature. what's the fun in that?

he will not quit. he will not submit. his shirt says he will never give up.

lately i'm CM Punk. CM Punk dubbed himself as the voice of the voiceless, after filming one of the best promos ever done. he said he was leaving the WWE with the championship, and last Sunday he did.

he called the Cena an asskisser. he calls out the firings of very talented wrestlers remain unjustified. he said he was tired of grasping at the owner's imaginary brass rings, and that the owner stunted the growth of the WWE by surrounding himself with gladhanding, non-sensical yes men (starring Jim Carrey). he said that he's the best on the mic, in the ring, and at commentary, and he's proven it with no reward. he was airing the dissatisfaction of the WWE universe. he didn't take any shit. not from his boss. not from Cena. not from the fans. he said exactly what was on his mind. he never faltered. he never doubt his abilities or his character. not an ounce of him was sugarcoated. he never dressed up his thought in pretty speeches. he didn't care if he ruffled feathers. he didn't whiteknuckle for a second, refusing to tip-toe the line between staying true and satisfying higher ups. he did what he knew would let him look back with no regrets, bending boundaries until they broke. and everyone respected him for it. i can't remember the last time a crowd cheered so loud as when he walked away with the WWE championship.

Cena shares many qualities with Punk--the unwavering faith in himself, pride, and ability to speak on behalf of WWE fans everywhere. but it's time for me to do so with the unbridled rawness that CM Punk does. my Cena days were a way of suspending self-respect. sometimes when you try so hard to preserve a relationship, the relationship runs out of genuity. it becomes everything that you were afraid it would in the first place. it hides under covers. it disguises in pleasantries. it becomes obligatory and forced. Cena and Punk are true to themselves (or their characters, as the case were), but one still comes out as the bad guy, and the other depicts "good." at the end of your rope, it's better to be bad and upfront, than the good guy who is always polite, because operating in the fake of a manner is the worst of all.

i'm a Punk.
-k.

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